Champion's Return
by Ixlecno
Summary: An ancient, overwhelming force reawakens in the Underground. The only hope of the Five Kingdoms Under the Mountain is to call upon an ancient right to summon the Goblin Champions.
1. Part 1: The Set Up: Prologue

This is a fanfiction for those of you out there who enjoy swords and sorcery as well as the occasional dragon and mythical lore. I'm going to show you Jareth at his strongest, at his weakest, and at his most startling along the way as Sarah tries to decide what she wants out of life and Toby decides the next greatest adventure.

Thank my beta-reader, jkulibert2 for me, would you? I owe her much.

And, as must be stated, I own none of the characters, themes, or places from Jim Henson's 1986 _The Labyrinth_.

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><p>* This fanfiction has undergone serious editing and reworks the original has been saved, but for all those who read it, I highly advise rereading as important details have been redone. The update took place 76/15.

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><p><span>Part 1 The Set Up<span>

Prologue

The mountains cracked, and volcanic ash billowed forth. Feet rumbled; hearts pounded; ears turned at every sound as the smoke turned the lands from day to night. A great horde had awakened.

A terrible screech pealed through the air, and a bold, red glare lit the darkness. The fiery behemoths poured through the skies. Each whisper from their lips promised death and sent forth a bought of flame that scorched the mountainside, rolled across the planes, and torched the forests.

Tiny, wingless creatures cowered wherever they could- behind a boulder, beneath the ash- as the trees blazed like rods of fire and crashed against the blackened earth.

An ancient, grating roar split the air, and a massive, horned head reared up from the flames. Then, in a burst of wind, the beast took to the sky on leathery wings and disappeared.

When their roars at last died, and the fires smoldered, the creatures rushed from their cover and fell upon the ashen fields to grieve.


	2. Arrangements

Arrangements

The Goblin King strutted around the stone floors, puffing, cursing, and throwing his arms in the air to the suffering of a small, goblin band huddled in the central pit, helmets rattling as they backed into one another. Other goblins looked on, perched and peering, from every ledge in the throne room, sensitive to the ire of their king: some snickering, some scared.

"And furthermore," The Goblin King threatened, "If I ever catch another one of you brainless worms trying to light a fire in the bog of Eternal Stench again, I'll -!" The Goblin King halted, glancing about the room. He dropped the struggler's ankles, and the goblin's skull banged against the helmet on the floor. The Goblin King barked, "Leave!" then growled, "I'll deal with you lot later..."

The troublemakers scrambled out like their tails were on fire. The king gathered his temper and turned with a flourish, instantly donning a long cape with his autumnal ensemble, and faced the throne room archway just as the doors in the Great Hall opened.

A doll-sized creature with dragonfly wings and a childlike face hovered into the castle with a brown shawl over his shoulders. In his tiny hands, he clutched a purple envelope. He zipped through the Great Hall and over the goblin heads. "Your majesty," he greeted with a low bow.

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak," The Goblin King said. He tilted his head and surveyed the sprite from its curled, velvet boots to the puffy green cap on its head then rolled his eyes. "What is it?" the king asked.

The sprite, wings buzzing, declared, "My Lady sends urgent word!"

The Goblin King, wary of the growing curiosity among the goblins, extended a glove, and the sprite slipped the envelope into his hand. The Goblin King carefully turned it as if it were a delicate thing. In the top corner sat a royal seal, identical to the symbol on the messenger's tunic: five curved triangles touching in the center.

The Goblin King tossed the envelope away from the letter where it fluttered down and came to the feet of an intrigued goblin.

The Goblin King scanned the curious script and balked, his winged eyebrows arching up in shock.

"Dragons? Coming to the Labyrinth?" The Goblin King exclaimed and twisted his head to the nearest window.

The king threw his arm towards the window and scoffed, "I see no dragons!" He turned back, surprised to see the sprite wringing its hands. Whispers tittered among the goblins, seeming nervous. It was too late, Jareth realized, for him to hold his tongue.

The Goblin King turned on the sprite and snapped, "I have not received contact from the other rulers in centuries," he advanced on the sprite, "and the only notice I receive now is some garbage about dragons?"

"Please, your majesty, they're here! They're coming! Just take a better look," the sprite pleaded, "you'll see!"

The Goblin King rose up and growled, "I ought to have you bogged for giving orders to a king!"

The sprite let out a whimper, and one of the goblins promptly interjected, "Let's fry 'im up!" "Yeah! Roast him!" cried another, "Poke 'em!"

The sprite, flinching towards the ceiling, begged, "No, your majesty- forgive me- please-"

"Quiet!" the king commanded and turned his back on the sprite hovering over a suddenly excited goblin horde, "Wait here while I get a better look." The sprite whined as goblin spears jabbed up at him. In a flurry of fabrics, the Goblin King transformed into a barn owl and whisked himself out the window.

The owl king caught an errant breeze and soared to the nearest labyrinthian wall, but not too far out, he saw the signs. Monstrous pillars of soot and ash held up a vast, darkening sky in the direction of the Gnome and Sprite Kingdoms. His feathers quivered. The white owl pivoted in a flash and circled back.

The moment he passed over the windowsill, leather boots slammed the floor, frightening nearby goblins in its wake of dust, glitter, and shredded bits of purple paper.

The king found the sprite high on the ceiling, harassed by a multitude of jabbing spear heads. "Enough!" he commanded, and the goblins regretfully stilled. "Return to your queen at once!" The Goblin King called to the sprite, "I have no more use for you."

"Yes, your highness!" The sprite squealed and zipped from the room. The goblins pursued it like a hungry mob, groaning as it took off out the window.

The Goblin King pointed a finger and called, "You!" where they all turned, staring at him with alert eyes, "Prepare the west solar immediately!"

The goblins bustled away, making a mess as they bumped and stumbled into one another, some sloshing alcohol, murmuring 'Ow', 'My foot!', and 'Where's the west solar?'

The Goblin King groaned then barked, "Out! Out! Out! Or so help me, the last one in here's sleeping in the Bog of Eternal Stench! Tonight!" There was a great trampling of feet with quite a few goblins earning tiny, new boot imprints on various parts of their small bodies. Then all fell hushed.

The Goblin King collapsed into his throne with a profound sigh, surrounded by that which the goblins left behind: scattered black feathers and empty mugs. He would have to put his reprimands on hold while this frightful mess was sorted out. Cleaning, or finding, an underused room would simply keep the bumbling fools out of his hair for a few hours- or days; he really didn't care, and the labyrinth was ever-changing. He thought back to the sprite and the errant bits of purple parchment scattered over the stone floors and gave a crooked smile.

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><p>A brisk, autumnal wind swept in through the arched windows lining the curved wall of the west solar of the Goblin Castle. The Goblin King perched in the middle window, and behind him, thirteen empty chairs sat about a round table, accented by a burgundy throw rug. Tapestries depicting both macabre and tragically comical goblins of legend covered the stone walls. Between two of the tapestries stood a grand hearth with a pair of crude goblin weaponry crossed over the mantel. Two sturdy doors lead out of the room, one on either side of the tapestries.<p>

The Goblin King kept a careful eye on the horizon when he wasn't staring deeply into the crystals in his palm. He took one at a time and studied them carefully, hoping to glean some information about what he was up against. One dark crystal showing the Sprite Kingdom was separated from the bunch.

The magical presence of the Labyrinth shivered- much as it had in the throne room before the messenger arrived. The crystals disappeared as the Goblin King pulled away from his perch. He waited, and in the next breath, a goblin steward, denoted by his finer cloth garb, entered the solar, soon followed by a high fey monarch. This high fey, dressed in stone grey court livery, had hair of a cold, steel gray: a tint that came not from age but prolonged stress. A jagged scar cut clear through his face, a point of much speculation of possibly improper healing.

"Ah, King Eremor," The Goblin King said, "a pity we are to meet again under such dire times." The remark was laced with sarcasm as the rivals swore to never meet again except until the seas boiled over in rage and the heavens rained down upon the Underground. Or, coincidentally, the dragons reawakened.

"A pity," the Gnome King agreed in his dry droll, "And how unfortunate that I am first to arrive. At least you were kind enough to dredge up your _good_ spirits." His eyes drifted to an ornate flask seated on the round table and made no more eye contact as he walked past the host king to take a seat.

The Goblin King muttered beneath a smirk, "Better to have you under the influence if I must have you at all."

"My sentiments exactly," he heard the Gnome King reply.

It wasn't long before the next sovereign arrived.

"Queen Cassora," The Goblin King jovially greeted the brunette high fey whose tendrils of hair curled like roots about her arms and whose dress echoed the dance of light between summer trees, "more lovely than I remember." He laid a kiss on the back of her hand which she returned with a smile and subtle curtsy.

"King Jareth," the Nymph Queen smiled, "how generous the years have made you."

"As if I wasn't generous before?" The Goblin King quirked, but quickly added, "Could I get you to repeat that later?" The Nymph Queen smiled and moved past the host monarch to take her seat.

The last two queens entered together, having coincidentally arrived at the same time: the Queen of Hags and the Queen of Sprites.

"My, my, what have we here?" The Goblin King smiled, "Arriving so close together, one would think you were-"

"-discussing ideas for the meeting together in the ruins of a dessemated village? Quite," the Hag Queen agreed. She was gowned in a dour, black, court dress that accented her regal frown with long, blonde tresses while the Sprite Queen gave her wisened grin with coppery braids and a white, high-collared dress with gossamer sleeves that fell past her fingertips and glittered like snow.

"Quite," The Goblin King said, "And how wonderful it is to see you again, Queen Gianna and Queen Leyena." He followed the same greeting with the two queens, then all the monarchs gathered around the table set with a burgundy cloth an assortment of colored flasks.

The Goblin King said, "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

"The sooner we're out of here and back to our own kingdoms, the better," the Gnome King sternly agreed, pushing aside his goblet.

"Queen Leyena, if you'd please," the Goblin King encouraged, "I'd say it's fair if you head us off since this was your idea."

"No doubt," The Nymph Queen said, nodding her agreement.

The Hag Queen, Gianna, perked up and asked, "About the dragons, yes?" She looked expectantly to the queen in question.

Queen Leyena gave a solemn nod. "Dragons are the reason I called us here," The Sprite Queen said, "Especially here." One of the other monarchs made an approving noise as each sat a little straighter. The Goblin King sat back and summoned a crystal to idly roll across the tabletop.

The Sprite Queen was a tall, proper fey of small gestures but with an expressive face.

"Convenience, perhaps," The Sprite Queen offered, "as your kingdom has yet to see them."

"Then why not my kingdom?" The Gnome King asked, "Mine is entirely stone and built in a mountainside."

"Mountainside, indeed. For hiding, no doubt," The Goblin King quipped.

"-this is hardly the time-" Queen Cassora started

The Gnome King interjected, "-I'll wait until they're at your front door then, shall I? And laugh from my mountain as they consume all your dim-witted-"

"Enough!" The Queen Leyena exclaimed, "I suggested the Goblin Kingdom because it is difficult to fight dragons from a mountainside!"

"Fight them?" The Queen Gianna asked, "Who said we were going to fight them?"

The Gnome King opened his mouth, but the Goblin King interceded, "Well I've never seen a horde of goblins, no matter how large, ever slay a dragon!"

The Gnome King clapped his mouth shut with a huff and instead opted to reach again for a flask on the table. But he was intercepted by the Nymph Queen who poured herself a glass. He resigned himself to a different potent.

The Sprite Queen argued, "Well, if I may get to my point: I was rather thinking humans would prove a better combatant for the beasts."

"Humans," The Goblin King repeated doubtfully.

Almost mystified, the Gnome King leaned forward in his chair momentarily forgetting about his goblet. He mused, "Humans were the dragonslayers of old, weren't they?"

"Need I remind you, nowadays, dragonslayers are quite hard to come by?" The Goblin King said.

The Sprite Queen poised with her snow white fingers tented before her then slowly met the Goblin King's gaze as she amended, "Well, when I said humans, I rather meant _champions_, say... Goblin Champions?" There was an innocence in her words like an honest suggestion but the cunning wisdom in her eyes belayed this idea as her true intention.

A pregnant pause settled over the table. The Goblin King gaped while the Nymph and Hag Queen paused with curiosity rising.

The Gnome King burst out laughing, clutching his forehead in his palm. He composed himself just long enough to cough and mutter, "Excuse me."

The Goblin King glared heatedly at the rival king, clutching his hapless crystal on the table with great force. He turned to the Sprite Queen with a serious expression and said, "Tell me you're not serious."

"Humans haven't slain dragons for centuries," The Nymph Queen mentioned.

The Goblin King added, "And the ones you suggest would be gravely- _impossibly!_- under prepared."

"Be it so, they can be trained," The Sprite Queen said.

"Training takes years," The Goblin King argued, "Even if we had even a fraction of that time, we'd need more than martial combat experts!"

The Sprite Queen replied, "If I recall, we have one such master in the premises, do we not, King Eremor?"

The Gnome King, having been enjoying himself at the Goblin King's expense, quickly composed himself and replied, "-Er, I would call myself more than a mere expert, for certain."

The room drifted to a still with the Goblin King's sight hovering around the center of the table. He shook his head and said, "Even if I let _him_ train them in _my_ kingdom, you'll hardly get the obedience you require. Many of them remember little of this realm, and fewer have any desire to return to it. They're not like champions of old."

The Hag Queen said, "You have the only champions to speak of."

"And like you previously mentioned, we'd be hard-pressed to find others," The Nymph Queen added.

The Hag Queen said, "And being as they are your champions, they'd listen to you."

"No," The Goblin King replied leaning against the back of his chair, "They won't."

"No?" The Hag Queen asked.

The Goblin King lifted his dark gaze and repeated, "No. They would not take kindly to my presence nor any of yours." He leaned on the arm of his chair. "In a manner of speaking, they are more the _Labyrinth's_ Champions than my own. I didn't exactly make a stunning impression on them- not like the last Goblin King. Or would you prefer I do a little more strutting around and kidnapping young girls?" He accented his words with a tilt of the head and mischievous eyes.

"But I'm guessing dragon slaying wasn't their ideal life, either," The Hag Queen snarked. Then she added, "But what's keeping us from gathering our own armies and striking the dragons down? Our own prowess is surely formidable enough. We have here the five of the most powerful beings of this realm!"

"Well, we can't take them down ourselves," The Gnome King pointed out, "Dragonhide is resilient to magic."

"The hide, but not the heart," The Sprite Queen agreed, "Which is why we need trained swordsmen."

"Oh," the Nymph Queen gasped, her posture relaxing in a sudden realization. "You're not talking about common swordsmen at all. You're talking about spellswords."

"Precisely," the Sprite Queen grinned as the logic became apparent to all of them, "And I suggest Goblin Champions because they are obligated by the ancient rites to defend. They solved the Labyrinth; therefore, they must protect it."

"You do not know what you ask," The Goblin King solemnly claimed, "Summoning champions is a rite that has not been enacted in ages, not since the thirteenth Goblin King. I don't even know if it can still be done. And the relation I have with my champions isn't what the Thirteenth King -who remains unnamed- had with his. They see me as a danger, a threat."

The Gnome King quipped, "Maybe if you didn't have a repulsive bog as your historic landmark."

"Or keep heaping piles of garbage outside your gates," The Hag Queen added.

The Goblin King scoffed, "It's not garbage- it's junk!"

"Summoning the champions is still within your right!" The Sprite Queen exclaimed.

"They do not know that!" The Goblin King countered.

"But you can do it, can't you?" The Nymph Queen asked, "You can make them see reason?"

The Gnome King asked, "What are you saying, Queen Cassora?"

The Goblin King sneered, "She suggests tricking them into coming."

"I believe persuade is more what I had in mind," The Sprite Queen offered with a coy shrug.

The Goblin King chuckled and said, "Oh, it'll take a bit more than that." He smirked as he spun the crystal beneath his fingertips.

The Hag Queen interrupted sharply waving her hands, "Why are we still arguing about this? Perform the summons, and they have to come!"

The Goblin King grew silent and drummed his fingertips on the table. His head shook slowly as his eyes sunk into the crystal.

The Sprite Queen asked, "What is the matter, Goblin King?"

The Goblin King thought a moment then said, "It's a fine plan. It might work; however, there may be a few who will not heed our cause. I... cannot perform the summons if we expect their cooperation."

"And doesn't the summons bind the Champions to the realm?" The Queen Cassora, a previously quiet body, interjected.

"So what if it does?" Queen Gianna scoffed.

"The obvious: they could never so easily return to their homes when all is said and done," King Eremor said. He had a frank way of speech with little movement of his limbs and a perpetual bored expression.

"That would make for some very upset champions," The Goblin King confirmed.

"Well, how many are not going to cooperate?" The Hag Queen asked.

The Goblin King drew a hand across his jaw and breathed, "Three? Four? At least one, for certain."

The Gnome King interjected, "Only four?"

"One is enough," the Goblin King said and rolled the crystal into the center of the table where it clicked against the alcohol flask, and in a puff of shadow, a miniature monarch stood in the center of the table. The king gestured to the figure and stated, "the Labyrinth didn't even exist before the Thirteenth Goblin King came into power. Quite the obsessor, changing the very way the Goblin Kingdom told time- anyway, before him, there were no champions. Fierce demons were rumored to guard the labyrinth and the treasures at its center. But to have even a chance at the prize, before you could even attempt to run the Labyrinth to reach its center, you had to wish away something you loved."

A goblin servant came in and replaced the flask in the center of the table with the help of a second goblin to climb on his shoulders and a long hook to reach the crystal container. They did so quietly.

"The idea was," Jareth continued, "only a fool would wish away something they truly loved, and a fool could never solve the labyrinth. So, while the rumors of demons turned out to be goblins, the treasures were very real. And when anyone actually did reach the center, they had to choose between that thing they loved or their dreams. Either were acceptable rewards, but to be a true champion, you had to chose to retrieve that thing you'd lost over everything else." Thirteen shadowed figures rose up around the Goblin King miniature. "Those who chose their dreams were given them than exiled from the Labyrinth forever, having forfeited the treasure by wishing away something they couldn't have truly loved." Other shadowed figures fled across the table. "Now, the rules had been changed over the years, but in a way, whomever completes the labyrinth takes a piece of it with them. So its no surprise that many champions wished to stay and defend the kingdom out of loyalty to their gifts. But should any run off to pursue their own venture, all the reigning Goblin King would have to do is summon them. But only thirteen could ever be summoned, and often times, that's how many there were. After the thirteenth, the Labyrinth would stop answering calls, so if a monarch wanted stronger champions, he would step in personally to oversee their run.

And here we are." the Goblin King raised his index finger. "Thirteen Goblin Champions. No more, no less," he stated.

The other four monarchs digested the tale with a great deal of mental strategy. Then the Sprite Queen spoke up, "But one more reason to hold the meeting here," she explained, "this is the dragon's goal. And maybe that makes a good bit of sense, considering the tale…"

The Goblin King's eyebrows knitted together, and he asked, "What do you mean?"

The Sprite Queen shook her head, "I think it has to do with the weakening in the veil. Many creatures have been attracted to it before…" She frowned and gave a dismissive head shake.

"What is this so-called treasure, Goblin King?" King Eremor inquired with a sly grin.

"Ha! Wouldn't you like to know," The Goblin King taunted.

"But what about the time to prepare?" The Nymph King urgently interceded, "They travel fast and-"

The echo of a roar on the distant horizon startled the figures around the table. The Goblin King rushed to the nearest window. Shadowed figures like gargantuan bats advanced on the horizon, growing steadily larger with each passing second.

"How long did you say it would take to train them?" the Hag Queen asked.

The Goblin King glared at the horizon and grew chilled, fists curling into the stone sill. "I didn't," the Goblin King bit out, "But... thirteen fortnights under the best circumstances..." The Goblin King laid his hands flat upon the cold windowsill, his heart pounding at the sight of the dragon swarm.

"I might be able to see to it that the champions make it here outside the summons," The Sprite Queen, Leyana, revealed.

"And the final Champion?"Queen Gianna of the Hags asked.

The Goblin King's gaze turned dark and reclusive. With the swift turn of his wrist, he summoned a crystal and raised it against the sun, soon to be covered in ash. "She will come."

"What is he doing?" A voice whispered from the shadows. A hairy hand pushed a protruding branch to the side and stared with green eyes at a figure upon the battlements of the Goblin City.

"I told you he wouldn't listen ta' the other fey- look at him! Probably surrenderin'," A second voice critiqued.

There was a roar somewhere overhead, and the pair ducked. A rush of leathery wings passed over but continued on.

The dwarf rose, shaken, and heard a rustle beside him. He glanced over his shoulder. The goblin had run away. Worried, the dwarf found the figure upon the battlements again and watched with bated breath.

Harrowing gusts of wind snapped at the Goblin King's dark cape as he stood on the battlements, as still as stone and with his head turned down. Below him, the Goblin City hustled about, the clinks of their armor distinctive through the howling.

The horde approached, swooping and arcing with their full, powerful wings, biting into the gale. And then came their deafening roars and warning jets of flame tasting the air. But still, the Goblin King stood in perfect poise, ignoring the rattling in his bones.

Then there was a low yet distinctive rumbling, and the Goblin King tensed, head flashing up. The nearest beast had reared back its sickly, green head, the rumbling growing while its chest expanded and wings beat the air before, in a jerk, a jet of green flame shot towards the Goblin King, engulfing him. Prepared to partake of an easy meal, a rubicund beast fell over the writhing flames. The other dragons swooped past to fall upon the Goblin City but reared back, talon scraping an invisible barrier. They roared in protest and turned upon the flames.

When the green fires died, the Goblin King still stood, in a circle of charred stone, eyes wide open as he looked upon the dragons with wild abandon and a devilish grin. The red beast took its chance and launched forward with its deadly maw open wide.

The Goblin King flinched, snapping his arms out, and a burst of energy rippled from his fingertips in a shot of thunder. The shockwave buffeted the red dragon's aim just enough for the king to slide to the side, sending the red horned head skimming past his lean frame as the jaws came together in a loud _snap!_ But before the dragon could rise again, the putrid, yellow eye glazed over and the dragon's skull dropped to smack the parapet._ One down…_

"Halt!" The Goblin King boomed, voice echoing across the battlements. The dragons, clinging to the barriers like giant lizards, turned to regard the magic king. He was half surprised by their attentiveness. _Now for the plan…_

"Bring me your strongest! Beat me in a contest of wills, and the city is yours!" The Goblin King proclaimed.

All the dragon heads perked up at the challenge, but dragon egos were not ones to be questioned.

"Me! I am the strongest of all my brethren!" A deep, grating voice echoed from the right of the Goblin King.

"No point in exhausting ourselves in lieu of the simpler price of one king's inferior willpower…" a cunning, slender, blue dragon agreed. And from over the group of dragons flew a large, green beast with broad, corded shoulders and lengthy, yellow teeth.

"MOVE OVER," a thundering, demonic voice called. And from another group slithered out a dragon slightly smaller in comparison to the green beast. This one was possessed a strong breast with cunning, pale red eyes and scales the color of midnight. "THIS ONE IS TRYING TO TRICK YOU." And he turned his gaze upon the Goblin King. His fangs bared between his words as the voice like thunder rattled on, "GOBLIN KING, EH? DO YOU SUPPOSE YOURSELF TO BE MORE CLEVER OR WILLFUL THAN A DRAGON? DO YOU BELIEVE THAT, IN THE YEARS OF SLUMBER, I'VE FORGOTTEN WHAT A DEVIOUS TRICK TASTES LIKE?" The beast flicked his tongue for emphasis though the phrase was clearly metaphorical.

_Leave it to a blackscale to sense fey magics. Damn. I had hoped one wasn't near…_

"Very well," The Goblin King replied, "No magic. Just raw will. I take it I'll have the same from you?"

The black beast's voice simmered down to a low rumble, "Of course."

"Then this will be determined now," The Goblin King proclaimed despite the cold sweat at the nape of his neck.

_JARETH!_ A voice not his own interceded his thoughts. _Don't do this! You'll die. Your kingdom needs you!_

_Out of my head you invasive witch! This is the only way!_ He cleared his thoughts, leaving nothing to latch onto, confident that should one of the dragons try his patience during the challenge that the group in his solar would know what to do.

"This is my labyrinth, my land, and thus, I challenge you," The Goblin King announced. "Give me your title."

The black dragon kneaded his talons against the parapets. The rest all around him flicked their tails and flexed their wings as they clung to the parapets. "Very well, Goblin King, if a title you require, I am the conqueror, _Frivin-vutha_."

The Goblin King had enough humor to smirk but his hands were heavy as he released a tendril of magic energy from his core. It slithered, flitting and dancing in the air until it reached the black dragon. The Black Conqueror flinched his nostrils but stilled as the magic found its entry point in the chest of the beast. Its pink eyes widened, and it could feel the Goblin King on the other side.

The power the Goblin King found within the beast was expected yet still astonishing. The principle of the spell relied in attacking the weakest point, but on a level deeper than simply the physical. And yet… whatever point he attacked, the pain would return just as strong.

_The heart_. Was it his voice? Or the invading queen? _Distractions!_ But the words held value and wisdom for what dragon had ever loved? And yet, just as easily as one could be defeated by having never loved, one could be defeated by having loved too much… And each second he contemplated it, the magic slithered toward the point: the dragon's heart.

The beast growled as the magic lit on the spot. The Goblin King felt a spark of triumph before a surge of pain channeled to his chest. He gasped, and the energy grew, the force tightening around his lungs, challenging his breathing. Then he felt a quiet emotion creep up behind the sudden pain, bittersweet. But he fought through the haze of emotion and forced his gaze to lock onto the dragon, the dragon with buckling knees and flaring nostrils. But as then the wave had started to ebb, it returned in a sudden, searing spike of heat. His strength started to drain away as a sadness crashed over him; his knees dropped to the stones; he clutched at his chest, gasping, fighting for breath. _How? How is it…_

The Goblin King forced his head up through the sudden blur of vision and splitting headache. His sight was dark, oblivious to the many, excited and shocked eyes beyond the tunnel. All he could see were the bright, pink sheen of the eyes staring daggers into his own. But they, too were filled with pain, a pain that couldn't be hidden or snuffed.

It gave him hope. His hand clamored for the parapet wall and he pulled up, legs shaking as he tried to stand. The dragons turned their heads, anxiety filling them, evident by the frantic flicks of the tails and growing hostility, greed, and disgust in their eyes.

The end was near. The Goblin King prepared to blindly push through the last surges when he was blinded by a flash of fire. A sharp pain shot through his chest as he was thrown against the back wall, a cry slammed from his lungs.

The Goblin King stilled. Then the spell took another turn as a mysterious, dry heat and barbed pain clawed through his chest followed by the equally dry and barbed emotion: regret. The Goblin King gasped; his eyes shot open, falling on the dragon, likewise scrabbling across the stones. He felt so weak, barely able to breath, barely able to see, the pain slowly consuming his energy. The Goblin King, clutching at his chest, rasped, "...Damn."

Four shadows suddenly appeared surrounding the Goblin King. In an attempt to stop them, he lurched upwards and let out a choked noise but crashed back to the stones. A flash, and all monarchs disappeared.


	3. A Champion and Her Charge

A Champion and Her Charge

A gossamer, golden light streamed in through the pale, lace curtains and cast itself over a sleeping form. When it fell over closed eyes, they fluttered open. A halo of dark brown hair fanned over the pillow and tumbled down onto pale shoulders. Her bed was tucked into a corner and surrounded in shelves upon shelves of books of every shape and size. A couple of the books were spine-up, curled somewhere amongst the tangle of sheets about her legs.

When Sarah finally stirred, it was with fanciful tales on her mind that quickly faded into a list of things she needed to do today like clean the house and shop for groceries. Then she remembered that she was expecting a call from Toby.

Sarah picked her way around the piles of clothes and things on the floor of her room- the only room she allowed to be so untidy-in search of decent clothing.

Breakfast was a pan of scrambled eggs and cereal, and when she finished, she ran water into the pan. It was at this moment that her phone rang. Sarah wiped her hands on her jeans then dug through her purse that sat on the counter.

"Hello?" Sarah answered.

"Hey-yo!" a chipper voice on the other end responded.

"Toby!" Sarah cheered, "You getting ready for tomorrow?"

Toby answered with an enthusiastic 'yeah!' and the siblings delved into their plans for Fall Break. Toby's parents were going out of town, and Sarah and Toby decided to see if Toby could stay with her instead of going to Salt Lake City for the third time that year. So they made plans, and tomorrow morning, their parents' plane would take off.

Sarah carried the conversation outside to get the mail, and when she returned, she spread the envelopes across her kitchen table. Her cat, Fionna, chose that moment to hop up and start pawing at the mail; a purple envelope fell out of the bunch and onto the linoleum floor, quickly swept under the table by Sarah's pacing feet. Sarah left the cat alone and moved to talk to Toby by the window.

"What time?" Sarah prompted,

"Ten-o-clock!" Toby aptly replied.

"Ten-o-clock," Sarah confirmed with a smile. The two siblings chatted a little more while Sarah moved around the house, setting out cleaning supplies before rounding back to the kitchen. When she passed by the sink, however, a pair of eyes were looking up at her. She stumbled.

"Sarah, are you okay?" Toby asked, referring to a garbled noise he heard on Sarah's end, the sound like a voice passing through water.

"Yeah, I'm… fine," Sarah said as she inched closer to the sink.

"_psst.. Sarah,_" a voice gargled from the watery depths of the pan in the sink.

"Toby, I've got to go," Sarah said, "...Lots to clean and shopping to do before tomorrow. Call me if you think of anything else you need, okay?" Toby agreed and the siblings promptly hung up.

The face low in the reflection of the still water was weathered with deep wrinkles and set with a bulbous, brown nose. Fine, white hairs poked out beneath a leather cap, and two familiar eyes clung heavily to Sarah.

"Hoggle, what are you doing?" Sarah asked, not feeling the need to whisper in her own kitchen.

The dwarf cleared his throat and leaned in closer to the reflection which was obviously closer by his feet. "I can't say nothin' here," Hoggle whispered, "Too many eyes. Can I come in?" Sarah tensed up at the sudden request but replied, "Yeah, yeah, give me a second."

Sarah ran over to the back door of her little house and opened an end table under a nearby window. From it, she pulled out a handheld mirror and stepped through the back door after peeking her head out to discern that there weren't any neighbors about. She drew the mirror, seeing Hoggle's face on the other side.

Hoggle returned a nod then suddenly, he was behind her. Faint traces of foul odor lingered but dissipated in the passing, autumn breeze.

"Hoggle, this isn't the best time," Sarah started, "I need a heads up- you know that."

"Yes, but this is important, Sarah," Hoggle urged, "I promise!"

Seeing the deep and obvious stress her friend was under, Sarah knelt down to sit on the porch steps and invited Hoggle to do the same.

"Oh, no, Sarah, I can't," Hoggle explained, "I must get back before anyone knows I'm gone." Sarah stared skeptically at her friend but decided to hear him out.

"I'll be quick," Hoggle promised, "So don't interrupt me." Sarah nodded and Hoggle began, "Lots a stuff's been happenin' in the Labyrinth, Sarah. Out of nowhere! It's horrible; The commotion- goblin's scatterin'. I saw it all myself! Oh.. and Jareth! He was-"

"-in the bog?" Sarah interjected.

"Wha-? No. That prick never enters the bog since he made me prince…" Hoggle clarified then, knowing where Sarah was going, he added, "And as far as me bein' out o' the Bog's concerned, what he don't know won't hurt 'em. Now I told you not to interrupt."

"Right, sorry," Sarah said.

"Where was I… oh right, the Labyrinth! It's in pieces! Desolate! Ruined! I barely made it out with my own head…"

"-What?-" Sarah uttered.

"-But that's only 'cause I was camped out in the Fiery Forest, so I guess I shoulda' picked a better hidin' spot."

"Hoggle, I don't understand," Sarah said.

Hoggle gave a little leap and looked around. "How long have I been here?" asked, shifting on his feet and peering around.

Sarah was exasperated but supplied, "Five minutes?"

"Five minutes!" Hoggle cried and ushered for Sarah to turn over the mirror.

"But Hoggle-"

"Another time, Sarah," Hoggle said, "All I really have to say is this: don't -under any circumstances- come back to the Labyrinth." And with the mirror turned toward him, he disappeared.

Sarah shook her head. _Don't go back…? Why would I..._

Suddenly remembering herself, Sarah whisked back inside and set to cleaning the house for Toby's arrival.

The thought of the Labyrinth plagued by danger bothered Sarah more than she would care to admit, and all the rest of that day and all the next morning, it barely left her thoughts. She wondered a couple times if she shouldn't reach out to Sir Didymus or Ludo, but before she knew it, it was time to pick up Toby. Any concern for the Labyrinth flew from her mind.

After a couple of short hours on the road, Sarah pulled up to her old white-washed, Victorian home, complete with the strange circular window no one ever looked out of. Her dad and step-mother's car was gone, having presumably left not so long ago on their way to the airport, just like they said they would.

Sarah climbed out of the car to find a lanky, preteen Toby waiting for her on the front steps, a large smile spread across his face, framed by dark brown curls. He left his luggage on the porch and burst forward to tackle his sister in a hug.

Sarah laughed, "I missed you too, kid." Sarah noticed Toby had gotten taller- quite a bit from when she'd last seen him; he was nearly her height now.

Toby broke away and said, "I've already locked the house- let's go!"

Soon, they were in the car, chattering away as if they hadn't known each other their whole lives, the common topics between them being videogames, TV shows, and Sarah's beat up car to which Sarah playfully responded by threatening to bog Toby if he brought it up again. He didn't quite understand the saying, but as far as he was concerned, she'd always said it.

A stop for lunch and another hour passed before they arrived at Sarah's place: a simple, little house with a dark, shallow roof, small front yard, and a small front porch. Autumnal leaves trickled across the front yard, carried by an errant zephyr.

Sarah strolled in the front door and noticed something on the floor beneath her kitchen table. She stooped down.

"Your room is the first door on the right," she pointed, "go ahead and get your things situated." Sarah turned the curious purple envelope she'd picked up over in her hands.

Toby nodded and headed down the hall. He hadn't seen Sarah's house before, much less been in it, but found it to be out of Sarah's character. It was a bit drabber than he imagined, definitely lacking where the homeliness was concerned. Hardly any pictures hung on the bare walls. He'd always seen his sister as fun and creative, but her house reflected more the traits of abandonment.

The purple envelope was largely unmarked, save for a large seal imprinted into the paper behind the name "Sarah Williams". It was closed with bright red wax, the symbol there identical to the seal on the front: a pointed, five-petaled flower.

Sarah walked over to rest her weight against the back of the couch as she broke open the wax.

_Dear Champion,_

_By the decree of the pact of the Five Kingdoms of the Era of Nexys, as witnessed by the late Kings and Queens, you are called upon to return to the Realm of the Underground where you are champion and lend your aid against the Five Kingdoms' terrible blight._

_No option of refusal or rebuttal of the matter will be heeded regardless of where in the Above or Underground you reside as the sacred duty is most honorable and binding._

_No arrangement of personal belongings will be necessary as everything will be provided for you during your extended stay, and when your due is complete, you will be free to return home._

_Be prepared to leave immediately, and when you are prepared to depart, burn this letter._

_With sincere authority,_

_Queen Amoura, Head of the Council of the Five Kingdoms._

Sarah blinked, her mouth perched open in surprise. Hoggle's warning crept into mind, and Sarah wondered over the connection. She shook her head as a frown passed over her face. Her eyes skimmed the words, and again, the frown deepened, eyebrows knitting together. She heatedly mumbled, "How's this for refusal or rebuttal?" And she flicked it into the garbage bin.

_"What can I say?" A voice echoed in the stone room, "Once a stubborn girl, always a stubborn girl."_

_"You can hardly blame her for being so out of touch with our world for so long."_

_"If we can't get the champion for the cause, we will need someone to champion our cause to her."_

_"Not so," the first voice spoke up, "I have a much better plan."_

Sarah, hoping to put the letter far from her mind, went to check on Toby.

She found him hooking up his electronics: his laptop and cellphone.

"Ready to head to the park for some lunch?" Sarah asked.

Toby turned his head slightly and answered, "Yup." Then he stood to look at his sister with bright, blue eyes. "Ready when you are."

The siblings headed out the door with Sarah in the rear to safely lock the house, oblivious to small, abnormal noises coming from the kitchen.

A small form was bent over the lip of the trashcan, hoisted by a second form, crouched beneath the bare, warty feet of the first. "You find it yet?" the crouched one whispered, strained by the weight on his back as he rested his hands on his knees. But the first figure didn't reply, continuing to sift through the trash.

But a low yowl made both creatures freeze.

"What was that?" the voice in the trash can asked, but the growl persisted with no response. The top goblin kicked at the lower one then started to rise out of the can.

A pair of ice blue eyes watched the goblins from between its long, fine whiskers, hunched down and keenly tensed.

Suddenly, the lower goblin, able to bare the intensity of the glare no longer, threw up his shoulders, tossing his mate into the garbage can as he took off.

The somali sprung with lightning reflexes but just missed the fleeing goblin, darting off in rapid pursuit.

The goblin in the trashcan was too busy kicking viciously at the lid, head stuck in the trash.

The pursued goblin wheeled around the kitchen: leaping up onto the chairs, tables, and counters to escape the wily cat. But this was Fionna's territory where trespassers received no mercy, their movements too sporadic to be anything but prey.

They spilled the magnets from the fridge and ripped the towels from the rack, sending cloth and paper flying in tatters, each time the cat steadily gaining claw by claw. No permanent damage was suffered until the duo moved to the living room of plush sofas and soft carpet.

"Got it!" the goblin in the trashcan shrieked triumphantly as the container toppled over. He rolled out and onto his feet. "Stop playing with the beastie! Time to go!" he shouted angrily.

"You heard 'em!" the frazzled goblin gasped, glancing over his shoulder long enough to see a pair of glittering fangs close in. "Eep!"


	4. The King and the Champion

The King and the Champion

The leaves had turned, washing the smooth hills of the park in the warm hues of autumn. Sarah was bundled in a jade sweater and scarf while Toby sported a comfortable, gray jacket.

"It's not quite like the park at home," Sarah said, "But I like to think it is sometimes." She pointed to a far hotdog vender, and the siblings meandered that way.

"Why don't you just move closer to home?" Toby asked.

"It's not that simple," Sarah replied, "Trust me. Your mom's a wonderful person- don't get me wrong- but she and I… don't quite get along. I couldn't imagine being closer and having to come over for more than holidays and special occasions."

Toby left it at that, understanding well enough the relationship his mom and Sarah had before she moved out.

They grabbed their hot dogs with fries from the friendly, mustached vendor and wandered around the small pond. Leaves coated the ground in a colorful blanket and whispered as Sarah and Toby kicked through them. A gentle wind swam through the trees, and the bright sun warmed their faces.

They ate by the pond then settled down into a game of frisbee, a game which Sarah was painfully worse at than Toby, made obvious by the fourth time the frisbee spun helplessly wide of Toby, forcing him to run back into a tree cluster to fetch it. Where before, it knocked harmlessly against the trunks, this throw landed it high among the branches.

Toby playfully jeered his sister's throw while she stayed where she was, arms tucked close to her sides in guilt and chill.

As Toby approached the trees, a hunched woman in a dainty coat and knitted cap came around the other side. Her face was low, chin stuffed into her collar as she hobbled over to Toby.

"Excuse me?" she piped up in a small, rough voice, "Have you seen my husband?" She was an awfully small woman, and Toby assumed she was very old.

"What? Oh, um," Toby straightened and looked in front of him.

"Perhaps over there?" the woman asked again, creeping closer to the youth. She pointed a heavily knobbed hand behind Toby, and the boy obliged, turning.

"Yeah- is that him?" Toby pointed to a lean man, also slightly hunched in a long, slim coat near Sarah.

Turned away from the woman, Toby heard a rustling and turned back to find the frisbee in the old woman's hands when a moment ago, it'd been in the tree.

"Here you are," the old woman croaked and held it up to the youth. Toby thanked the woman and moved to grab it, feeling something crinkle on its underside. But when Toby moved to pull it away, the woman wouldn't let go.

Confused, Toby glanced up for a second to find a pair of rough, beady eyes staring at him from beneath the knitted wool cap. The face was squashed with a short nose and wide cheeks over leathery skin.

Sarah looked away from the old man to find that Toby with frisbee in hand, talking with an old woman.

"Is that her?" Sarah asked, turning back to the old man. His face was pale and lean but kind with a thick, woolen cap on his head and flaps down over his ears.

"Yes! That's her!" the man cheerfully cried then gave a rough cough, sharply hunching into himself.

"Are you okay?" Sarah asked. He was such a nice man.

"Fine, fine," the old man nodded, but looked constrained as he placed a hand on his chest.

By this point, the frisbee was released.

"Please…" the crooked woman whispered, "Help us. You must make her understand. Or our world will be lost… forever."

Toby turned over the frisbee to find a purple envelope stuffed into its underside.

The woman didn't say another word but stuffed its hands into its armpits and lowered its head again, shuffling around Toby.

As the woman drew parallel, she quickly rasped, "And don' let _her_ see it!"

"Hey, Toby," Sarah's voice chimed behind him. He jumped and hugged the frisbee close.

The old man had probably led the way over to them as now he and the old woman were wandering off together, surprisingly quick.

Still holding the frisbee, Toby turned.

"You cold, Toby?" Sarah asked, seeing the teen's jacket zipped up.

"Uh, yeah," Toby fumbled, "Can we head back?"

Sarah's eyebrows lifted in the center and her mouth drew into a pout. "Sure, Toby, everything okay?"

"Just cold, just cold," Toby nodded, looking down with his fists stuffed into his pockets, a frown marring his face. But realizing Sarah's concern, he quickly looked up and gave a smile. "I'm fine!" he said.

When Sarah got home, her jaw hit the floor. The inside of her house looked as though a tornado had blown through: cutlery littered the tile and carpet; the table had claw marks; bits of paper towel scattered the countertops with pots and pans, previously hung up, reaching off the stove. The carpet itself had gashed in it and the trashcan was knocked over.

"Fionna!" Sarah called, rushing to the center of the house to look over all the damage. She looked around, but the somali was not nearby. Sarah met Toby's shocked gaze, and she said, "Help me find her."

The siblings immediately set to scouring the house with Sarah looking in all the common places Fionna frequented and Toby looking everywhere else.

"Sarah," Toby hollered, "I can't find her." They reconvened in the torn living room, and looking through the chaos a second time, they found the damages to be ugly but not life-ruining. This didn't calm Sarah down, however, until she spied an ajar window. She rushed over and threw it all the way open, leaning her head out. Her anger melted immediately and was replaced by a blank mask.

"Come on," she said to Toby as she headed for the back door. They spent the next hour combing the backyard and checking the house again. Sarah stirred herself in a pit of worry, all rage dissipated. When Toby asked, Sarah confirmed that the Somali had never been let out of the house before.

They tidied the kitchen, Sarah almost slumping about but trying not to detract from the excitement of having Toby over. "I'm sure she'll be fine," Sarah muttered out loud some time later as she stirred the pot for dinner.

Toby shrank away to his guest bedroom and pulled out his phone to check in on his social profile when his gaze crept over to the purple letter left on the dresser that he'd discarded as soon as he got in. More than a little curious, he pulled the mystery over to him, studying again the script of Sarah's name across the front.

"Toby?" Sarah called from the kitchen. Toby stuffed the letter behind his back just in time for Sarah to round the corner.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I'm gonna head to the store to pick up some floor… repair… I don't know. You want to come?" she said.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Not long."

"I think I'll stay then- if it's alright."

"Okay, sure. Need anything?"

"Nope."

"Okay then, see you in a bit," Sarah said as she disappeared behind the wall.

Toby listened for signs that Sarah was back in the kitchen then carefully peeled open the envelope.

* * *

><p>Sarah rolled up to her home, car seats leaden with impulse buys of junk food that hid the cleaning supplies. She gathered a couple bags then turned to the door to find Toby sitting on the front steps. He didn't look when Sarah pulled up, but when she climbed out, he was holding an opened, purple letter in his hands with two small figures sitting beside him. He leaned against the banister with one foot on the top step and the other two steps down.<p>

When Sarah started to approach, it was with a sudden and unexpected feeling of anxiety and trepidation as she recognized the figures with Toby on the porch: goblins.

Toby tilted his head up, and his blue eyes found her, filled with a deep searching.

Sarah stopped across from him and lowered her groceries to the walkway. The goblins' small voices whispered to one another, "She's here! Is that her? Shut up!"

"Sarah?" Toby asked, "What's going on? I have this letter,and it's got your name on it," It was a heavy and confusing, but not unwarranted, question. Sarah's face softened into a pained expression. Her eyes fell on the letter, and a spark of anger shot through her. She lifted her eyes back to Toby, and the anger died.

"How did you get that?" Sarah asked, her mind trying to fit the pieces together.

"It was a gift- from the lady in the park," He replied.

"...What do you want to know?" Sarah asked, edging closer to her brother.

"_Everything_," Toby said, and in that moment, something familiar flashed in her mind: "_Everything you wanted I have done_…" She could almost taste the coming storm.

"Remember those stories I read to you when you were little?" Sarah prompted. They were stories of the Labyrinth: of goblins and pixies and gnomes and old hags who lived in junkyards.

"I remember," Toby said with a slight nod.

"They're all true," Sarah stated, lifting her chin. Toby flinched in surprise as if dunked in ice water. He then stood and descended the steps, putting himself before her. She was still a head taller, but in a couple years, that was sure to change. There was a strength in his eyes that Sarah couldn't help but be proud of.

Toby then turned and indicated the goblins, "They tell me something awful's happened to the Labyrinth." He looked down. "The letter implies as much… " Then he looked back at Sarah and said, "But it also says you must go back."

Sarah felt like she slipped into the edge of a whirlpool where the current was at its weakest, and she had the urgent need to scramble out. She looked over Toby's shoulder and noticed the goblin count slowly building. They were all standing and chattering to themselves.

"How much did they tell you?" Sarah asked Toby, sensing that he might be concealing his true opinions. She searched in hopes to find a release in the culling current.

"Not much more than I already knew," Toby admitted as he stepped back and looked to the numerous goblins watching them, waiting. "I used to have dreams, but I never thought they were real," Toby said. Sarah spotted a glimmer in his eyes: a memory, perhaps.

"Toby," Sarah chided, "This isn't a game or a dream."

"I know that," Toby replied stubbornly.

"I'm not sure you do," Sarah insisted.

"I do!" Toby stamped his foot and shot his sister a glare. "You have the chance to be a real hero. The dragons aren't just their problem, but ours, too. They could destroy everything!"

Sarah gasped, "Dragons?" _Is this what Hoggle was trying to warn me about?_

"You mean you didn't know?" Toby asked.

"Of course not! Have they shown you proof?" Sarah snapped back, "Any proof at all that they're not simply tricking you? Luring you into a world you don't understand? That you're not going to be trapped there, never to leave again?"

Toby opened his mouth but closed it again and looked back at the goblins, searching for answers. "No," he said finally.

Sarah was close enough, he touched Toby's shoulder and turned him around to face her. She was smiling and said, "That's fine. I understand what it must seem like, but before we can rush into anything as extraordinary as… 'saving the world' we need to get our facts straight, okay? Everything may not be as heroic as you think it is."

Toby pressed his lips together and nodded then brushed Sarah's hand off and moved to stand beside her.

_I guess now I get my answers…_ Sarah straightened her back and lifted her chin, prepared to address the amassed goblins. She almost felt like she was back in the park, rehearsing plays. She locked eyes with each goblin in turn and announced, "Who's in charge?"

The goblins fell into a series of whispers, their spears clanking together over their heads. Eventually, one goblin emerged: a round-faced fellow with a wide chin and small eyes. His body was shaped like thick globs of melted candle wax. "I am," He replied.

"Good," Sarah said, "Now tell me: why are you here?"

"We are here for the champion!" The goblin declared, and the goblins behind him cheered.

"Why come here?" Sarah asked above the noise, throwing off her best Peter Pan akimbo stance. _Why give Toby her letter?_

A smaller goblin hissed, "We _can'ts_ tell you." The other goblins nodded, especially the one in front.

"Why not?" Sarah challenged, taking a step forward. Some goblins backed off while others seemed peeved at her advance and clung tighter to their spears.

"King says so," The front goblin replied.

"Oh?" Sarah said and thought over the implications before asking, "Then what can you tell me?"

The goblin in front looked behind him for an answer while Sarah and Toby exchanged glances.

Sensing this would get nowhere fast, Sarah cut them off, "I want to speak with your King." The goblins fell silent and looked up at her with the same emotions: stun and wariness. It was in Toby's eyes too.

"King's sick," the front goblin explained, "Can't bring 'em."

"Sarah," Toby muttered, "I don't know who this king guy is, but doesn't that sound like you're getting in over your head?" But Sarah knew these goblins couldn't give her the answers she needed.

A couple of goblins tapped on Candlewax's shoulder and whispered something in his ear to which he quickly amended, "-But if you come to the castle, you can speak to the King!" The goblins mumbled excitedly and thought themselves clever.

"That won't do!" Sarah argued. She stomped her foot and ordered, "Bring him here!"

A wind grew in the otherwise still neighborhood, and the chimes on the porch clinked in the strange breeze. Sarah sucked in a breath as she and Toby looked around. Golden leaves tumbled across the yard, and some goblins bunched closer, but others pushed them away and puffed out their chests._ Wait, what have I done?_

_"So cruel… and always so hard to please. Oh, woe to any who must heed your call,"_ a voice spoke from the shadows of the porch. A figure suddenly stood in the far corner, barely discernible as the early afternoon sun slanted in and lit only upon the broad surface of his dark cape.

"Goblin King," Sarah whispered like a bad omen. She spoke up against the figure in the shadows, "Is this a game to you?"

"No game," The Goblin King replied. There was a flourish of hands as he strolled closer. "No tricks. You have my word."

"But isn't you just being here proof that you're trying to trick us?" Sarah accused.

"I am here because you asked,nothing more," the Goblin King said, "But if you insist on knowing: you don't have a choice. You must come."

"No choice?" Toby interjected. He searched the shadows, "What do you mean?"

"Hello, Jareth," The Goblin King said, "Taking after your sister, I see."

Toby's mouth drooped as he shifted his gaze between Sarah and the imposing stranger, unsure of how to take the greeting. He said, "My name's not Jareth."

"You can't make us go," Sarah interrupted.

The Goblin King paused; Sarah thought she heard heavy breathing, but then he repeated in a breathy, patronizing tone, "You don't have a choice, Sarah; the Labyrinth needs you. He, however," the Goblin King said, "may do whatever he pleases."

Sarah brought her eyebrows together then looked down to Toby. His gaze reflected hers then he whispered, "But, Sarah, why'd he call me Jareth?" Sarah rolled her eyes and shifted her narrowed gaze back to the Goblin King.

The Goblin King stated, "The dragons are coming. Whether you like it or not. You will come, or you leave your friends to perish in the flames." He slid himself behind the banister column of her front porch as if, she noticed, he were leaning on it. She searched the darkness but couldn't find his face. She might have caught a glimpse of his flaxen hair, but it was gone in a blink, back into the shadows.

"And then-" The Goblin King started, but his voice caught on something, "-then they will destroy our world. Every single fey will fall, and-" He halted again.

"Sarah, you didn't answer my question!" Toby insisted.

"Toby," Sarah scolded, "this is a little more important than that. Will you please focus?" Sarah was losing focus herself. She turned back to the Goblin King and asked, "How long do we have to make a decision?"

There was a pause and then an inhale. "Thirteen minutes," came the strained reply followed by a faint chuckle.

"Thirteen minutes?" Sarah asked incredulously.

"Sarah," Toby cut in. She turned to him impatiently. He stated, "We should do it."

"Toby, I told you. This isn't a game!" She said.

There was a hollow clatter on the porch, and Sarah snapped her head over to see. She was met with the vision of the Goblin King doubled over, the sun lit on feathery hair. Sarah twitched forward in response, but a gloved hand shot out, and the goblins leveled their spears at her.

"Don't come any closer!" The Goblin King hissed, panting. The sun lit on a high, pale cheekbone above a tall collar and through a curtain of blonde hair.

"Get those out of my sister's face!" Toby exclaimed and rushed forward only to have some spears divert and point at him.

"You. Must. Decide!" The Goblin King hissed, his hand having dipped back down to grip his chest then aiding him against the banister to pull him back to his feet.

There was suddenly a low growl from beneath Sarah's porch and the nearby goblins skittered back, some spears diverting again to the new noise.

"Fionna!" Sarah exclaimed as the cat crept up onto the side of the porch closer to the goblins, away from their king. A couple of the goblins shook as they held their spears while the rest held back the Williams. But the cat was an unavoidable presence as it crept closer, hackles raised and fangs bared.

Suddenly, there was a faint noise, like a gasp of wind, and the Goblin King's hand brushed the air. A stout goblin with warts covering its shoulders barked, startling the goblins around it. It seemed to glance back at the king then edged to the side of the goblin mass, toward the cat.

The goblins watched on, transfixed as the warty goblin hunched its shoulders, bared it teeth and growled at Fionna. The cat didn't move, but stared heatedly at the goblin, yowling and swatting her tail. But when the goblin bolted forward, barking madly and waving its hands, Fionna sprinted off the porch, into the brush, and darted into the front yard, halting when the goblin didn't persue.

The spears once more focused at the Williams, sharp and jagged of tip.

"It wasn't my idea to bring you back, you know," The Goblin King mentioned from the porch, "You can thank Queen Lleyenna for that. And if so much as you or one of the other champions choose not to come of your own volition, you will all be summoned and bound by an ancient, goblin rite."

"Sarah," The Goblin King intoned, "You don't want that."

The sentence weighed on Sarah with her cat yowling in the back of her mind. She clenched and unclenched her fists.

"Have you ever lied before?" Sarah asked. _Stupid Question._

Simply, he replied, "No."_ Can't trust that answer._

"How long?" She asked, looking up into the shadows of her porch, standing strong.

"Choose your words," the king replied, causing Sarah to grit her teeth.

"How long must we stay- it won't be forever, will it?" Sarah asked. But before he could answer, she took a hissing breath and continued, "We have** lives** here, Goblin King! We have jobs! And families!" She realized she was screaming by this point, " Toby has school in a couple weeks for crying out loud! Why now? How long? How long will be have to be there- in that other world, missing our lives over here? How much will we miss? **HOW LONG?**"

There was a pause. There may have been a sigh, but he said, "Not long. Not long at all."

Sarah knew she couldn't argue with him; couldn't argue with that answer as infuriatingly vague as it was. She was tense and on the verge of shaking from anger, shooting bolts from her eyes into the darkness that was the Goblin King. She then dropped her gaze and let out a long, hissing breath.

"Fine," Sarah said, "But Toby stays."

"What- no!" Toby exclaimed, turning on his sister.

"Toby," Sarah grew stern and shot her brother a hard look, "You're staying, and that's final."

"But I want to go!" Toby objected.

The Goblin King said, "If he wants to go-"

"No!" Sarah shouted, "You can't have him, too! This isn't your business!"

"I won't," The Goblin King said, "He is yours. You won him well enough the first time."

Toby spoke up, turning Sarah's attention back to him as he added, "And what about Mom and Dad, Sarah?" He didn't want to really speak up against his sister. Especially after her outburst, but he had a point to make, "They think that I'm with you; they wouldn't want me here by myself. I can't go anywhere else."

It had taken strength not the interrupt him- to silence what she already knew to be the truth: Toby had to come, too.

Sarah looked back to the Goblin King and fixed him with a hard stare. "He won't be harmed?" she asked, "Won't have to do anything?"

"As long as he doesn't tear down my castle or turn my subjects against me…" The Goblin King seemed to shrug in the darkness, having regained his poise, "Or cause any other trouble, no harm should come to him."

Sarah paused. She hadn't wanted to leave Toby so soon, but she didn't want to take him into this unpredictable world of magic and monsters where nothing was as it seemed. But the way forward was often the way back. Sarah looked to Toby with a sort of lost expression. Her mouth drew into a hard line, and she gave a small nod.

That was all the acceptance the Goblin King needed.

The wind picked up again as an arm raised from the half-light and gave a flourish. A purple letter appeared.

"Burn the letter," The Goblin King said, and, in a puff of glittering air, he and the goblins vanished.

An odd emotion swept over Sarah that she couldn't place. She had been swept to the center of the whirlpool and seemed to be drowning. She looked to Toby, but he was already moving towards the letter, having curiously checked his pockets. As if feeling her eyes, he looked back.

"Come on, Sarah!" he said with a hopeful smile.


End file.
